Conversations Overheard
by lulu belle
Summary: PG to be safe. What if Dorothy overheard what Glinda and Elphaba were talking about at the castle? One shot. please review, first wicked fic


AN:I do not own anything associated with Wicked or Wizard of Oz, but the plot is mine. I came up with this while watching the musical, and I couldn't help wondering what about Dorothy during the scene when Glinda goes to Kiama Ko to try to change Elphaba's mind and let the her go. I mean, if Elphaba heard Dorothy's crying, and she heard Elphaba's taunts and rants about the ruby slippers, shouldn't she have also heard Glinda and Elphaba's conversation? So, this is what would have happened if she DID overhear them.

Thoughts italicized, and memories will be incorporated but no division: unless said, they aren't any words in the memories.

* * *

Dorothy stopped her sobbing as raised voices reached her ears.

"Elphaba, you have to let the little girl go, and her little dog Dodo!"

_Glinda? What's she doing here? And who is Elphaba? Where is the Wicked Witch of the West?_ Dorothy thought as she made her way over to the door that separated her from where Glinda and this Elphaba stood.

"They're just shoes, let it go," she heard Glinda plead through the door. _Shoes?_ Dorothy gasped in surprise-_The ruby slippers! But, if Glinda's talking about the shoes, then Elphaba must be-The Wicked Witch of the West!_

Dorothy sunk to the floor, and propped herself up against the door. Glinda the Good-her friend and guide/protector-is friends with the Wicked Witch! Feeling a wave of nausea engulf her at the thought of Glinda betraying her, Dorothy quickly tried taking a few deep breaths to calm herself.

_There must be a reasonable explanation as to why Glinda's here, and what's going on, _Dorothy thought once she calmed herself. She turned her head and pressed her ear to the door.

At first, she didn't hear anything and worried they had left when she heard Glinda faintly speak. "Is it from Fiyero?" Her voice quavered-she sounded fearful-_I never thought Glinda could be afraid of anything!_

"We have seen his face for the last time." Dorothy flinched slightly at the sound of the Wicked Witch's-or Elphaba's voice.

Dorothy picked up a strange sound from Glinda: it sounded like whimpering. _Whoever this Fiyero is, I'm certain Glinda and the Witch knew him and cared for him deeply. But what does that have to do with anything?_

"You have to let them go, Elphaba. You have got to get out of here-they're coming for you!" Glinda pleaded again.

Dorothy heard the wound of something hitting the ground with a 'thunk'.

**(Top of FOR GOOD SONG)**

"Take the Grimmerie"

"But I can't read it," Glinda protested.

"Well, then you'll have to learn," the Witch insisted, trying not to cry.

**(REST OF FOR GOOD)**

Dorothy was speechless after their song.

"Galinda, you must promise me you won't try to clear my name," Elphaba pleaded.

"No, I can't," Glinda protested.

"Promise me, or they'll turn you!" Elphaba cried.

"I don't care!" Glinda asserted.

"But I do. Promise me." Elphaba replied solemnly.

"Alright," Glinda gave in, sobbing slightly.

A noise broke them of their solemn vow.

"You must go now, you must not be found here! Here, hide." Elphaba urged her friend before Dorothy faintly heard the sound of something scraping against something else.

She jumped to her feet when she heard the clang of metal striking the stone floor. Pushing all that had happened while she hid behind the door, Dorothy called out to her friends; "Tinman? Is that you?"

"It's Dorothy!" The Lion shouted-overjoyed the little girl was unharmed.

"Where are you Dorothy?" the Tinman called, his ax in his hands-momentarily forgetting his plans of revenge on the Witch by killing her with his ax.

"I'm here! The Witch locked me in!" Dorothy called back, tears of joy streaming down her face.

"Stand back," the Tinman shouted before chopping down the door.

"Come on, let's get out of here before the Witch comes," the Lion's voice quavered as his eyes nervously shifted around the room.

"Going somewhere? Hasn't anyone told you it's rude to leave without saying goodbye? Well looks like I'll have to teach you some manners. Wanna play fire Scarecrow?"

Dorothy felt fear grip it's icy fingers at her heart. She had to do something-the Witch was coming closer to Scarecrow with her broom alit with a small flame.

Spying a bucket of water, Dorothy quickly picked it up and threw it at the Witch-trying to put out the flame. But instead of dousing the flame, the majority of it splashed on the Witch.

"Aaah! Look what you've done! I'm melting! I'm melting!" The Witch's agonizing cry was all that was heard in the room as Dorothy, Tinman, Scarecrow, Lion, and the Witch's guards watched the Witch melting-until all that was left of her was her hat.

Dorothy just stared at it as the Tinman, the Lion and the guards congratulated her. As her friends surrounded her, she caught sight of the Scarecrow. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him standing by himself by the Witch's hat. He was staring at it intently without saying anything. He must have felt her eyes on him because he looked up at her and their eyes locked. As strange as it seemed, Dorothy thought she saw sadness in that face of his.

The Tinman patting her on the shoulder diverted her eyes from the Scarecrow. He was talking animatedly with her but she heard none of what he said as they started leading her out of the Witch's fortress.

She stole a quick glance back at the Witch's hat. The Tinaman noticed and his concerned eyes asked her if she was all right. Dismissing her thoughts of the Scarecrow, she managed a smile. _It's over,_ she thought, as she felt her smile becoming more genuine, and relief washed over her. _The terror is finally gone._

* * *

"Oh Elphie," Glinda whispered, kneeling by the makeshift grave she made her best friend. IT was nothing more than a stone that read, "Aim High, Defy Gravity, and Don't Stop"

"Elphie, you should see me now with a wand-I've gotten quite good with it. Not nearly as good as you of course, but better than I was when I tried to turn you dress into a ball gown." Glinda laughed at the memory: Elphaba was standing as she pointed her pink wand at her. 'Ball gown,' Glinda commanded. 'Ball gown' she repeated when her attempt proved fruitless.

After several more attempts that ended just as fruitless as the others, Glinda shook her wand and asked, 'Is this thing on?'

She looked down again at the grave. Fresh lilies lay in a small pile on the green grass. ((No one lays a lily on their grave))

"No," Glinda whispered forcefully, shaking her head, trying to dispel the cruel song from her mind as tears started streaking down her face. The tears she had longed to cry-mourning her friend's death. But she hadn't been allowed to mourn-instead she had to go along with the Ozians and celebrate her beloved friend's death.

"Miss Glinda," A small child's voice broke Glinda of her thoughts. "Are you all right?"

Swallowing her bitterness at still not being able to grieve her friend, she turned her head to see Dorothy timidly standing before her.

"Yes, of course, dear. I'm fine." Glinda somehow managed to plaster a smile on her face.

Dorothy almost believed her-if she hadn't seen the sadness in her eyes. It was hard to see unless you knew to look for it; but she knew the Good Witch didn't want to talk about it so she let the lie slide.

"Whose grave is this?" Dorothy asked, wanting to break the silence. Glinda just stared up at her, not knowing how to answer the question. "Is it her grave?" Dorothy asked, sitting next to Glinda.

Glinda just looked at her blankly; her plastered smile falling off her face.

Dorothy tried again, thinking Glinda didn't know whom she was talking about. "Is it Elphaba's grave?"

"How do you know about Elphaba?" Glinda stammered.

"I-I overheard you two talking back at the Witch's castle."

"Oh…" Glinda didn't how to respond.

"Were you two good friends?" Dorothy was curious why Glinda mourned the wicked. Everyone in Oz was overjoyed at the Wicked Witch of the West's death-except for Glinda the Good.

Glinda hesitated-she deserved to know the truth. Someone else has to know the truth about Elphaba Thropp. She wasn't able to clear her friend's name; she was bound to a promise. She had been wanting to tell someone the truth, and since she couldn't tell the Ozians, she could at least tell this little country girl the truth. "Yes, she was my best and dearest friend."

"She called you Galinda-" Dorothy didn't finish because Glinda's soft laughter interrupted her.

"Yes, because that is my name-my real name; and while at school, where we met, I prized it above everything else. Only she would remember how much I loved it, and how much I was proud of it."

Dorothy was going to ask who Fiyero was-but something green caught her eye. "What's that you are holding in your hands?"

Glinda looked down and saw what the child had seen. It was a small glass bottle filled 2/3 of the way with a strange green liquid. Glinda was absentmindedly cradling it in her hands. "It belonged to Elphie-Elphaba. It was her most prized possession: it belonged to her mother. I miss her so much, I guess I use it to comfort me."

"But Miss Glinda, why do you mourn her? Wasn't she wicked?" Dorothy blurted out-not being able to control her curiosity.

Glinda stared at her for a while, and, putting the bottle down next to her, she took Dorothy's small hands in her own. "Dorothy, you must understand, she wasn't wicked. She was just a stubborn and opinionated girl who did what she thought was right."

"But everyone says she's wicked!'

"Dorothy-listen to me: they called her wicked because they didn't accept what she was saying. Dorothy, remember this: just because someone is different from you, whether it be physical appearance or their thought and ideas, they are people too. They have parents, siblings, friends, wants, dreams, and fears. Never forget that Dorothy." Glinda softened her gaze. "Come, we have to get you home to your Auntie Em and Uncle Harvey." Dorothy smiled to herself, but didn't correct Glinda on her Uncle's name.

Dorothy, overjoyed at the thought of returning home, ran all the way to the Emerald City-confident Glinda the Good would follow her.

Glinda smiled at the young girl's retreating form. She turned back to Elphaba's grave and picked up the glass bottle. She stood up and started heading back to the Emerald City.

She turned to gather one last look at Elphaba's grave, but something was missing. Then she reached up and took out her pink flower clip-the one she fixed Elphie's hair with when she was giving her a makeover. Walking back to the grave, Glinda gently placed the flower clip on the grass beside the stone; a memory of Elphaba sitting on her bed, her hair down, wavy from the braid she always wore. She was wearing her simple dark blue frock that she wore to the Ozdust Ballroom. The bright pink clip Glinda had placed in her hair contrasted greatly with her dress, but matched her emerald green complexion.

_Pink goes well with green,_ she thought, laughing to her herself, brushing away the tears in her eyes. _We were so young then, it seems like centuries ago. Time was so much simpler then…_her heart ached at each memory of the life they shared at Shiz as roomies, and then their adventure to Emerald City.

Taking a deep breath, Glinda stood up and turned to face the Emerald City; and prepared the false pretense of happiness she had to put on once she reached the City. She started walking back once again to the Emerald City. She stopped and looked back, "I hope your happy," she whispered before turning back to face the Emerald City. It loomed before her, with its massive towers. She quickly put on her bubbly and happy countenance as she walked towards the City once more.

The wind swept across the green fields and played with the lilies and pink hair clip on an unmarked grave-and Glinda could have sworn she heard Elphie's laughter on that breeze.


End file.
